


The Protector's Oath

by BonestheGeek



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Entirely self-indulgiant, F/F, F/M, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant - The Trials of Apollo, Panic Attacks, Post-The Heroes of Olympus, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Survivor Guilt, The Mist (Percy Jackson), Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25720555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonestheGeek/pseuds/BonestheGeek
Summary: It was an awful plan. It was a stupid plan. It was a plan only the most desperate of people would come up with.(Oh. Wait.)Estelle came back to prevent the apocalypse that killed nearly her whole family. But it's hard to do much of anything when she's separated from her companions, stuck instead with the older (now younger) brother she can't admit the truth to and her sister-in-law, Athena's suspicious daughter in everything she does.Di immortales. This wasn't supposed to be this hard.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Estelle Blofis & Annabeth Chase, Estelle Blofis & Camp Half Blood, Estelle Blofis & OFC (Abby Frost) & OMC (Bryden Harris), Estelle Blofis & Percy Jackson, Paul Blofis/Sally Jackson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 40





	1. Estelle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. 
> 
> I made a quick update of the tags since I finally know where I'm going with this story (...somewhat). To clarify what's in there: 
> 
> I don't expect this to be overly dark or graphic (for one thing that's not my style of writing; for another I don't think I can handle it right now). At most, it should be about on par with HoO. Part of the story does deal with canon trauma (mainly Tartarus) and non-canon experiences (mainly stemming from Estelle's war), like a lot of demigod stories; realistically, they've been through a lot. Anything potentially triggering about those storylines should be tagged and noted in the relevant chapter, and that depiction won't be going into a super dark and depressing place. If you feel that anything needs a content warning, please let me know. 
> 
> In terms of sexual content/violence, it won't exceed that of a typical young adult novel.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The light's too bright. 

Estelle winces and moves her head to the side. Literally, _fuck_ Will. He's not supposed to be training the kids this early. Or this close to the barracks. 

She tries to blink open her eyes, but screaming hot sunlight burns her retinas. She closes them again, too blind to describe anything she saw. 

"Will Solace," she mutters, "You gods damned _asshole._ " 

Why does her voice hurt? 

Scratch that, why does everything hurt? 

Something's wrong. 

"You're ok," a voice says from above her. Will Solace, though something sounds off in his voice. "We've got you. Everything's fine." 

Estelle's getting the feeling that there's something _very important_ going on, something that she should be looking at, something that she should _remember._ A question nags at her, something she can't quite articulate. 

"Why..." She manages. _Ow._ She tries to open her eyes again, but that _light..._

"Tell Tony to lay off the glowlights," she says. It feels like she's slicing her throat into ribbons, but communicating is the only thing that's going to get her out of this current fuckery. "Or Tanya. Or whoever's doing it." 

A beat. Someone, Will presumably, squeezes her hand. " _Who?_ " 

Estelle frowns. "Tony. Tanya. Your sibs?" 

Someone shifts beside her; Estelle can catch the sound with practiced hearing. It sounds like she's on...ground? "I...I'm sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else..." 

That's when it hits her. 

Tony and Tanya don't have _blue_ behind them. 

And the sky...

Estelle's eyes fly open, adrenaline helping her keep them there. Her eyes are still marginally useless, though, so she tries to pick her left arm up and...

_It feels like I've been blown apart and put back together. Badly._

She stiffens. She's felt this way before. Been through this wake-up call before. 

Things are starting to come back in fragments. 

She blinks, but the light is still blinding. Figures; the first time she's seen a clear sky in two years and she can't see well enough to enjoy it. "Brys... _Abby..."_

"Who..." 

_Gods damn it._ "You're not my Will," she manages. 

Because he isn't. She left him behind; ripped apart the timeline so he didn't exist anymore. Well, _she_ didn't, but...

_Brys. Abby._

"There should have been a man," she says, quickly. "A man and a woman, who landed near me. Are they..." 

Don't let go, Brys had warned. Estelle had tried. But the vortex had ripped her away from him with the strength of a thousand gods and...

Holy Tartarus. The fact that she's still alive right now is a gift from time itself. 

She catches the flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, but her vision, much like everything else, is returning in patches. She can barely see out of flashes of color and glare. 

"I'm time-blind," she says. "You have to..." 

"Chiron's coming." 

_Annabeth._ Estelle chokes. 

They made it. They fucking _did it._

"What's wrong?" Will asks. "Are you hurt?"

Actually, yes, she hurts _everywhere._ Her sense of touch is coming back with the jolt of thousands of needles under her skin. A pervasive sense of _wrongness_ fills her as if all of her nerves connected at the wrong junctions. As if she were never meant to be lying in this location, time-blind, not entirely mobile, talking to a dead woman and a man who might as well be some days.

(Probably because she's not.) 

But that's not why tears are leaking out of her eyes. That's not why she's suddenly tense. "Annabeth..." 

She's three years old and perched on Annabeth's shoulders, Percy's hand steadying her back. She's seven and Annabeth is teaching her the alphabet, greek and English. She's nine and learning how to knife fight. She's fifteen and telling Annabeth that she wants to be a Protector. 

She's twenty-two, and she's watching a house burn to ashes. 

Everything feels hazy, suddenly, and her sense of touch recedes. She can't feel Will's hand in hers, anymore, even as she's certain it's there. 

When she tries to open her eyes, they crack open only a hair, and everything is so blurred she can't even watch it move. 

"Mortal," she says through numb, bloated lips. "You can't let.." 

Gods, she's so tired, isn't she? Continuing to talk is just astronomical amounts of effort. She can finish her sentence later, she's sure. Just a second, she's out of breath. Just a second. 

"Annabeth!" 

Nothing. 

* * *

When she wakes, her sight is fuzzy, but mostly returned. 

Estelle wakes alone in an infirmary untouched by war. Well, no-- she corrects herself. She knows the stories. It's just so bad where she comes that she sometimes forgets how many apocalypses her brother and everyone else averted before hell came for them all. 

Estelle props herself up on her forearms, still feeling her muscles pull. Gods, how long has it been? The last time she traveled, she'd only been time-blind for twenty minutes. Twenty terrifying minutes, but twenty minutes. And she'd only passed out for two. 

Based on the way light is casting through the tent, she'll wager it's been more than twenty minutes. But that might be the time-blindness talking. 

_Weapons._ Estelle checks her arm, cursing mildly as she does so. They took her knife. 

They did not, however, take Riptide out of her pocket. Probably because they didn't think there could be two. 

Of course, this isn't a war zone. At least if they made it back as far as Estelle thinks. So why the hell does she care that they took her knife? 

"You look lost, child." 

Estelle sighs in relief. "Chiron." Chiron she can handle. Percy or Annabeth probably would have broken her, though Will would have been fine if bizarre. Rachel...

actually, Rachel might have been worse than Percy or Annabeth, but Estelle doesn't realistically believe they would send Rachel. 

When she looks to Chiron, he cocks his head to the side. Or at least, she thinks he does. Maybe the time-blindness isn't as gone as she thought. "We seem to have met," he says. "But I don't quite..." 

"remember?" Estelle finishes. She sighs. "What year is it?" 

"Did you injure your head?" 

Estelle shakes her head. It was a hard fall (probably; she actually doesn't remember anything beyond Brys's hand slipping out of her own, and even that's fuzzy), but any concussion she may or may not have is going to hide itself in the time realignment symptoms. Probably. But that's beside the point. "Chiron," she says quietly. " _Please."_

She imagines the look he gives her -- brows furrowed in confusion, but full of understanding. "It's 2012," he tells her.

Estelle's heart stops. "I'm sorry, _what?"_

_They were aiming for the past. They were._

_But, 2030. 2025 at most. Just before the worst of it._

_In 2012..._

"Oh gods. Oh styx. Di immortales. I..." Estelle swallows several more curses her mother would be _less than pleased_ to hear about and looks at her hands. She places them into fist, her eyes focused on the fuzzy brown line on her forearm that she knows to be her sixteen-year-old scar. The one she got protecting Abby. It helps. 

"I...there was supposed to be a girl and a boy with me. The girl, she's short, she's white and blonde and she has the most ridiculous rainbow glasses and the guy is tall, he's black with short curly hair and a scar up his neck and..." 

Chiron stops her. "You were found alone," he says. "I'm so sorry." 

Estelle swallows. _Oh._

She's lived through a thousand FUBARed plans, but this one kind of takes the cake. 

"I can't believe I let go," she says, not realizing she spoke aloud. 

"Let go of what?" Chiron asks. 

Estelle closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath. 

"What's your name?" Chiron asks. 

Estelle knows what she _wants_ to answer. 

"Lane," she says instead. 

Elaine is the first name that comes to mind, so yeah, that'll do. 

* * *

She tries to walk to the council meeting, but two steps from the bed she collapses in a heap. Her legs are responding to her fine, but just don't hold and shake when she falls. 

So some enterprising camper from only the gods know which cabin (probably Apollo) grabs her a wheelchair that hasn't been modified for Chiron's escapades and takes her over instead. 

Estelle clasps shaking hands in her lap and fervently wishes for Abby. She's comfortable in front of groups of children, but Abby's the charismatic one.

(What Estelle fails to realize, until she's rolled into the war council, is that this is _entirely a group of children_ ). 

The last war council meeting she'd been to before camp fell, it had been about Ayla's quest. There had still been the jokes and the laughing (if subdued, because Ayla's quest had honestly been their Last Fucking Shot), but the youngest head counselor in there had been the 17-year-old son of Thanos who'd proven himself in battle two months prior. She thinks the youngest here is probably fourteen if that. Which wouldn't sound like a huge difference, except Estelle taught middle school for two years and did half of her teacher training at New Rome High. 

And, admittedly, Estelle _knows_ this is an improvement from before the Titan war, a fact that she Does Not Want to think about. 

She inclines her head at the war council, avoiding several sets of eyes. "It's an honor," she says, but her voice sounds like sandpaper hit it. She winces. 

There are several beats. Finally, Annabeth asks, "Who are you? What are you doing here?" 

Oh. 

This is an interrogation. 

That's...expected. 

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Estelle says, and then she winces, because she wasn't supposed to say that out loud. 

"What wasn't?" 

This time it's Piper, and it's surprisingly gentle. 

Estelle's heart starts to race. She can't be too discrete, because Piper would probably charmspeak it out of her. She can't say too much, because they won't believe her and it would probably be a hot mess of a disaster anyway. 

She needs Abby. Or _gods_ _,_ Brys, who's been on the council since he literally came to fucking camp. Or Percy or Annabeth or...

She starts to mutter the Protector's Oath in Ancient Greek, then Latin, trying to calm herself. 

_I am a Protector. I dedicate my life to the safety of others. I serve as the first port of the journey and the final safeguard. I believe that to protect my charge is not only to protect the sanctity of their life, but all the good they will do in the future. I accept the privilege and duty of the trust placed in me by my charges, fellow protectors, the gods, and the Fates. To that end, I take this vow. I will not falter in the face of fear; when threats come, I will place myself in the line of fire. I will use both my courage to fight and my wisdom to know when the fight is necessary. I will never allow any hero or protector to fight alone, unless such is the will of the Fates. I will use every resource I have at my disposal to protect the safety of my charges, up to and including my life. I am a Protector. May I always do my duty._

When she looks up, every counselor is the room is staring at her.

_I will not falter in the face of fear._

"I wasn't supposed to come here," she admits, rolling her shoulders back. "We wanted to go to a place where you would recognize me. A time when you would know why we came. This is too early." 

Annabeth shifts, like something in Estelle's language is making her think. Probably because Annabeth is brilliant and Estelle isn't actually trying to hide the most important bits. 

"What do you mean by too early?" Leo asks. "I mean, it's not like you time traveled or something..." 

Estelle's face says more than Estelle could actually say. 

"That's not possible." 

It's Chiron who speaks now, an accepted expert on mythological lore seeing as he's lived through most of it. Estelle shakes her head. 

"It _wasn_ _'t_ possible," she says. "Right now the person who will do it is, like, a year old. But there is someone who has that power." 

"Not you," Annabeth says. "You told us you were mortal."

Did she? Estelle's kind of glad they caught that, although it explains her not being dead right about now. Estelle shakes her head. "No. Not me. It's my friend, Brys." 

"That's not a demigod power," a teenager on her left answers. It's someone she doesn't recognize. 

Estelle winces. "He's not... _exactly_ a demigod. But that's kind of beside the point. He's not evil, if that's what you're worried about." She takes a deep breath. _I will not falter in the face of fear._ "Look, let's just...get this out of the way, ok? I'm from the year 2038. I came back in time to prevent an apocalyptic event that starts building in about 2030 and becomes an actual end-of-the-world threat in 2036. But, like I said, we meant to go back to when everything started happening. This is way too early to prevent anything." 

She pointedly doesn't look at Percy and Annabeth. Can't, really. Instead, she stares at a point on the table and keeps talking. 

"Most of you are dead. Some of you I don't recognize, so I don't know for sure. But a lot of the most powerful demigods in my time are sitting in this room, and a lot of you died in the first waves." 

Unbidden, the image of a burning house comes to mind. Estelle shoves it away, hard. 

_When threats come, I will place myself in the line of fire._

"How...time travel shouldn't be possible," Annabeth says. 

Estelle doesn't look up. "It isn't, exactly. It's more like ripping fate apart and starting over." 

Chiron stiffens in his corner of the room. "How could you ever...?" 

Estelle _snaps. "_ The mist _failed_ us, Chiron! The gods failed us." 

She stands, her legs surprisingly steady. She doesn't notice. All she can do is glare at the centaur, the man who advocated for her to come to camp, the man who was just as much a mentor to her as he was Percy's. She can't breathe, but she barely notices that too. "Have you ever _wondered_ what would happen if monsters started attacking mortals? If mortals started _truly_ seeing, even those with fuzzy vision? Have you? Have you thought about what they would do if they found out demigods exist, that demigods live among them? Do you know what it's like to lose the protection of being considered a myth?" 

Chiron opens his mouth to speak, but things just come pouring out of Estelle. "Do you know what it's like to watch nearly everyone you love die, killed by the people they were trying to protect? Or watch Camp fall knowing that all you can do is try to get as many people out as you can? Do you know what it's like to have maybe thirty, forty demigods left of hundreds? Huh? Do you know how fucking _desperate_ you have to be to come up with a plan like ripping the timeline apart and starting over?" 

"My world is over. Gone. It was over before Brys even used his power. It wasn't even _Western Civilization_ fading, it was _everything_ fading. _My world died._ "

She stares at Chiron. "I am a Protector," she says, this time in English, and he flinches. "I did my duty. And don't you _dare_ judge me until you understand what we lived through." 

Estelle tilts to the side. Catches herself on the table, heaving breaths. 

Silence. 

Estelle twists herself over, sits back in the chair, and puts her head in her hands. 

Oh yeah. She needs Abby. 

"Any more questions?" She asks instead. 

* * *

It turns out they do not, in fact, have any more questions. 

Which is probably a good thing, because when Estelle asks to leave, they let her. 

The time-realignment _is_ going, if slower than Estelle would like. She can walk on her own by using the chair as a walker and taking a break every several paces, which is how she manages to get to the lake. 

This lake...

 _Gods,_ this world is so pure. The sky...she'd forgotten how _blue_ it was, especially at camp. How the sun reflected in the water. How the greenery smelled. 

Her eyes are back to 20/20 vision, so everything is sharp and real. For a moment, she forgets that she's separated from her friends, that no one she loves knows who she is, that she's going to have to prevent an apocalypse. She focuses on drinking it all in. 

There's no stink of death, no haze in a sunless sky. She barely wants to blink because it would force her to stop staring at the world. 

_Gods. Abby would love this._

Suddenly, the world isn't so consuming. 

There's a lot of people who should be here, instead of Estelle. It's not like Estelle has a negative self-image, or something, but...

_I will use every resource I have at my disposal to protect the safety of my charges, up to and including my life._

For the first time in a long time, Estelle leans her head against her hands and sobs. 

On her left hand, a golden ring glints in the sunlight. 


	2. Percy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy finds their newcomer sitting at the beach.

There's an acceptance letter from New Rome University on Percy's bedside table. 

It's the first thing he looks at when he wakes up in the morning. The last thing he thinks about when he goes to bed at night. He used to pick it up sometimes in the middle of the evening when he needed extra motivation to work on homework. 

After all he's lived through, he can scarcely believe that he has a shot at a relatively _normal_ existence with his girlfriend, at least for four years. Annabeth, gods bless her, already got them registered with university housing, and even found a good psychologist for them who specializes in demigod PTSD. 

Him coming back to Camp, mainly to teach sword fighting to some of the new kids, was a _favor_ to Chiron. And a way to spend some time with Annabeth. Though he can't deny that only going home once a week cuts down on the number of monster attacks around his three-month-old little sister. 

He's not supposed to be getting involved in any dangerous quests anymore. That's for the younger generation of demigods. 

(So, of course, he has to be in the room when they wheel in a clear-sighted time-traveling protector informs them that the world actually does kick the bucket in thirty years or so. Goodie). 

They end the war council soon after she leaves. Annabeth and (shocks galore) _Clarisse_ both agree that they need more information in order to decide on a course of action and Annabeth, Piper, and Miranda Gardner are all firm that Lane (which is apparently her name) looks too upset to give them any more information right now. 

A decision he totally agrees with, by the way, even if he didn't spearhead it (mostly because he wants to keep his Hades-cursed mouth shut before he ends up on another quest from the depths of Tartarus). But he agrees that they don't know nearly enough to assign a quest. And even though he's oblivious as hell, he can see the obvious, especially when it's pointed out to him. 

It's just...

Well, he's stressed. It's probably hypervigilance, or so June would say. He just needs to go think for a while, and when Percy needs to think for a while, he grabs a coke and heads to the beach. Same thing he's always done. 

But when he gets there, (Lane? Lauren? Did he catch her name correctly?) is staring at the sunset on her wheelchair, her legs folded into her arms. 

...Ok, Percy's _inattentive,_ not stupid. Even inattentive, the shining tear tracks running down (Laurel? Liz?)'s face are pretty obvious. 

"Sorry," he says. She doesn't startle, just glances in his direction; she heard him approach, but deemed him a non-threat. "I'll, ah, go somewhere else..." 

He must admit this is rarely a problem -- only a child of Poseidon comes here outside of scheduled camp activities. And occasionally Annabeth -- he's shown her this spot before. But (Lea? Leta?) just shrugs and looks back at the sea. "No, go ahead. It was your spot first." She frowns. "Ah, if you want me to go...?"

He waves her off and sits on the beach. "No, it's fine." Even if he _had_ been inclined to kick her off the beach, he'd seen her try to leave the council meeting. Even now, sitting and resting, he can see her limbs shaking when he focuses. He's not about to force her to move when he doesn't have to. 

They sit in silence for several minutes. Wordlessly, Percy hands (fine, _the woman)_ a coke. She accepts, and they drink and think alone for a while. 

Finally, Percy shifts position. "I forgot your name?" 

"Oh." She swallows. "Ah...Lane. Lane is what I'm using right now." 

"What you're using?" He asks, because that...sounds a bit off, to him. To his inner Annabeth, anyway, who's smarter than him in nearly every way. 

She shrugs. "I...expected to come back to a time where I'd be recognized on sight. I'm not trying to deceive anyone, but..." She sighs. "I grew up at camp, you know? And, like, I grew up under the weight of expectation. If I succeed, little me doesn't need any more of it." 

Percy nods, slowly. He thinks of the way people react when they meet the child of Poseidon, Hero of Olympus, one of the Seven. "I get that," he finds himself saying. 

Lane snorts. "Yeah. You would." She closes her eyes. "Percy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Can I just...can I talk to you like you're my sword instructor for a second?" 

Her _what?_ "Uh...yeah," he says, not sure what else to say. "Sure, I guess." 

She takes a deep breath. With the sunlight shining through the curls in her hair, she looks like someone Percy can't quite place. "My friends are supposed to be here with me," she admits. "And...I fucked up. I let go. Now I have no idea how to find them again. And there's an apocalypse coming." She takes a breath, pausing. "This is going to be a _fucking nightmare_." 

She rubs a spot on her wrist that he can't quite see. 

The last thing Percy needs is a fucking nightmare, but he forcibly reminds himself that this is _Lane's_ battle, and the poor woman looks like she could use a break. So he makes a noise that he hopes is comforting. 

Something that sounds like a stifled sob comes out of her throat. "If I had just been _stronger..._ " 

Woah. 

"Hey," he says, turning to face her. It feels awkward, like counseling his Mom (not that she's not old enough to be his Mom, but she definitely looks much older than eighteen). "I'm sure you did your best." 

"It wasn't enough," she says, shaking her head. "I lost Brys and Abby. I let camp fall. I lost so many charges, I..." 

"Charges?" Percy asks, latching on to the wrong part of the conversation like always.

She pauses. "I'm a Protector." She doesn't sound patronizing, just practiced. "Like Grover used to be."

So _that_ was what that muttering in the Council chamber had been about. He's never heard Grover mention some kind of weird vow or something, but maybe it's just something he didn't mention to Percy. 

He swallows. "Look, it sucks when that stuff happens." Gods, does it. "And I understand not forgiving yourself for your mistakes. But that only helps you if you use it to help you fix things." 

She doesn't say anything. Percy feels his leg start to jiggle of its own accord. 

"I mean, that's why you're here, right?" He asks. "To fix it?" 

She swallows and nods. She clenches the sides of her chair. "Yeah," she admits. "That's why I'm here." 

An image comes to Percy's head; failing in Manhatten. Losing the Giant's war. He imagines living in a world that's so close to hell that you'd take the nuclear option of traveling back in time to fix it. He imagines coming back only to lose Grover and Annabeth, or any of The Seven, and not know where they are. 

Gods of Olympus. 'Could use a break' doesn't _begin_ to cover it. 

He shakes his head to clear it, then glances over at Lane. "What are you going to do?" He asks. It's curiosity. Maybe he shouldn't ask. 

But Lane shrugs. She actually looks a bit calmer. A bit less like she's about to burst into tears again. "I'm going to have to go on a quest," she tells him. "I need to find Brys and Abby. But I also need to figure out what in Hades happened to the Mist. If the Mist doesn't fail, none of what happened in my future comes to pass." She bites her lip. "I've never had a quest of my own before. I've been on a few, as a protector. But I've never led one." 

He remembers Annabeth, when she got the chance to lead her own quest to the Labyrinth. The look on Lane's face -- it reminds him of that, a little. 

"You'll do great," Percy says. 

She smiles and looks over at him. "You don't know me in this timeline. Yet. Sort of." 

Before he has time to parse that, she shakes her head. "Thanks, Percy," she says. 

He shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Hope I helped." 

"More than you know," she tells him. Then she pauses. "Hey, can I ask for a favor?" 

He frowns. Alarm bells in the back of his head ring. "What's the favor?" 

"Oh, nothing crazy. I just want my knife back..." 


	3. Annabeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth hasn't been sleeping, exactly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for panic attack following a nightmare depicted in this chapter.

Annabeth wakes with a gasp, heaving breaths. 

_Nightmare._

Now, Annabeth is a child of Athena. She's been having nightmares as long as she can remember; as long as she's been aware enough to understand the messages in them. Which, for a child of Athena, is pretty young.

Demigod dreams, though, are usually clear upon waking. They make sense with what's happening around her. They have information on her quests, images of friends who may be in danger. Sometimes she even shares dreams with Percy, which are kind of the best. 

Of course, Annabeth tries her best not to think about how those dreams are probably gifts from Aphrodite. Because sometimes if Annabeth has to deal with one more well-meaning god; she's going to go up to Olympus, grab one of their thrones, and toss it off the edge of the mountain (leaving aside the fact that she can't actually lift an Olympian throne; She's a daughter of Athena, she will _fucking find a way_ ). Gods never do things just for the good of others. 

But The Dreams are different. They're always negative, usually unshared, and generally don't feature a monster that plans to eat Annabeth and her friends. At least, not a real one. Sometimes they involve monsters of Tartarus, monsters she's fought before. But they're never...real. Alive. In the present tense. 

Annabeth presses her hand to her chest, hoping the pressure will help. She doesn't really _want_ to have to break curfew tonight. For one thing, several of her siblings are light sleepers, and some of the younger ones have been _delighted_ about the amount of time Annabeth has been spending in Cabin Three. For another, even though Annabeth is nearly eighteen, her siblings are not. And someone's supposed to be setting an example. 

But...also it's really dark. Annabeth hasn't loved dark since Tartarus. She feels exposed, cold, _alone._ Her hands shake. Her heart rate's far too high. It'll probably settle, but it will take a while. 

Annabeth wonders for a solid minute whether it's worth trying to wait it out while she's searching for monsters in every corner. 

(It's not). 

With all of the sneakiness she's learned questing around in her teens, she keeps her footfalls silent and slips out of the cabin. After a quick check around for the Harpies (years at Camp, and Annabeth's still not entirely certain that the Harpies would actually eat her if they caught her), she runs over to Cabin Three. 

She eases open the door, praying to Cardea that the door won't creek. 

It doesn't. She'll have to do a burnt offering to the minor god in the morning. 

If there's any cabin Annabeth knows as well as her own, it's Cabin Three. Technically it's against the rules, but if they prop the door open...going through Tartarus together and being each others' major supports have granted them a modicum of trust, at least from Chiron and the other senior counselors. If the others see Percy and Annabeth alone together, they'll usually ignore it. 

Moonlight spills from the open door, not quite reaching Percy's bed in the back. Green light reflects out of the (now fixed) reflecting pool that was a gift from Percy's father, painting stripes and splotches on the rest of the cabin. Weirdly, Annabeth has always found it soothing in here. It reminds her a lot of being at the bottom of the ocean in an air bubble with Percy, which is likely entirely the point of how it was constructed. 

She eases the door closed, but makes enough noise to keep Percy from startling awake and drawing a weapon. "It's just me," she says, climbing into his bunk. 

"You ok?" He asks, shifting to make room for her. She curls into his side, a perfect fit, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Your heart's pounding." 

It is, still, but she feels less exposed and untethered with him at her back. "Well, I did just run here after curfew." It's supposed to be a joke, but it comes out limp. 

"That's not why," Percy says, planting a kiss on her forehead. For all that she calls him Seaweed Brain, he can be surprisingly perceptive on occasion. 

She frowns. "Nightmare," she admits. She sighs. "I dreamed about the fall to Tartarus again." She tells him. "But instead of pulling us into Tartarus, Arachne threw us." 

She's shaking even thinking about it -- being _that close_ to the monster had been almost as bad as the fall. And of course, all she could think about was Percy, who should've been with the rest of their friends and was falling with her and that's her fault and...

"Annabeth," Percy says, seriously. "You gotta take a deep breath, ok?" 

Right. Air. It isn't like she doesn't _know_ she's hyperventilating, but... _air._

"In," he says, inhaling for about four seconds. "Out," he says, exhaling for about four seconds. "Come on, Wise Girl, I can't be better than you at _breathing._ "

Despite her current predicament, Annabeth feels a competitive fire start in her gut. "In your _dreams,"_ she says, stopping to take several deep breaths, "Seaweed brain." 

"That's my girl," he says, a fond smile in his voice. Annabeth smiles too and tries to match his breathing rate. Eventually, it slows down to something approaching calm, and her heart rate falls with it. 

He holds her closer, a warm and firm tie to reality. "We're here," he tells her. "We're here, and we got out, and we're going to be ok." 

Annabeth nods, even as a part of her thinks that they left something behind in that pit. "I know," she says quietly. "Thank the gods." 

They sit in silence for several seconds. 

"Should you write this down in your dream journal? For June?" he asks. June's been having them keep track of their PTSD symptoms as much as they can-- nightmares, irritability, panic attacks. She says she wants to have measures of how the treatment is working. 

Annabeth shakes her head. "I'll write it in the morning." 

"Annabeth..." 

"I'll remember," she assures him. "I'm just comfortable. I don't want to get up. I left my tracker in my cabin, anyway." 

Percy's quiet, which means that he'll respect her decision but doesn't like it. Annabeth, however, knows herself. She'll remember this incident in the morning. And even if she doesn't, Seaweed Brain will probably remind her (unfortunately). 

"It'll be fine," she tries again. 

He kisses her on the forehead again. "Just worried about you," he says. "Seems like you're barely sleeping these days." 

...considering that she doesn't even come to Percy's cabin half the time when she's sleeping, she's almost surprised he noticed. Except she isn't. Percy watches the people he loves. But the exhaustion that washes over her like a wave is one of many that go beyond when she first got to camp this summer. She closes her eyes and snuggles into Percy's chest. "I've got this," she murmurs. "You don't need to worry." 

As she slips further into Hypnos's realm, Percy sighs. "Love you, Wise Girl." 

"Love you," she says. 

In the next instant, she's gone to the world. 


	4. Estelle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In order to have a quest, you need to have a prophecy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentioned death/corpse of a character and vomiting. It's not very graphic and no one permanently dies. 
> 
> Have I mentioned that I hate writing prophecies? Because I hate writing prophecies.

"Oh Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Abigail Frost." 

The coin passes through the rainbow and lands at the bottom of the lake, along with a small bit of recycled seed paper encased in protective magic. Estelle swears, violently, as she picks both up. 

_Sorry, sweetheart. The signal's blocked on that end._

So Fleecy said last night, too. 

She tries again. "Oh Fleecy, do me a solid. Please. Show me Bryden Harris. The elder." 

The coin falls through again and lands, but no image shows itself. 

Fleecy doesn't have to send a note for Estelle to know that whatever's keeping her from contacting Abby, it's the same problem keeping her from contacting Brys. 

Estelle mutters some curses in Ancient Greek that Percy most certainly did _not_ teach her, and picks up the drachma. 

If Fleecy's even getting a signal, that means Abby's alive, and in this timeline. Little Abby won't be born till August, so there's no one else to reach. But if Abby and Brys aren't able to answer an Iris message, they didn't just land a few months or a year off and decide to lay low until Estelle turned up. 

(Estelle's certain that Abby's in this time for other reasons, but even _that_ method of contact is blocked. Which, if Abby's original explanation is to be believed, should not be possible. Estelle can't think of a single reason that it is possible, but she's not a magical theory expert)

It had taken Estelle a day to recover from the worst of the time-realignment, and Estelle wasn't the one exhausting herself breaking apart nearly thirty years of Fate. If Brys and Abby landed in a pile of monsters...

_No, don't think that._

_Except there are a thousand places that could be a problem. Hell, if they landed in the middle of a mortal road..._

_They're fine. They're alive. No one can fake that._

_Well, Abby is. Brys..._

_No. If Abby's alive, Brys is alive. Abby wouldn't let that happen. And Fleecy's getting a signal from the older Brys. You can't IM a corpse._

Estelle takes a breath. It might make her feel like she's doing something, but running in mental circles won't get Brys and Abby back. 

_I will not falter in the face of fear. I will not falter in the face of fear._

She steps away from the lake. No use, if she can't make contact with anyone. When Estelle turns, she finds Annabeth standing several feet behind her, guarding her with a questioning gaze. Estelle gives her the borrowed drachma, muttering a thanks under her breath. 

"No word?" Annabeth asks, surprisingly gentle. 

Estelle doesn't think she can answer that verbally, so she shakes her head instead. 

Annabeth presses her lips together. "That's awful." 

Thank _Olympus_ that Annabeth didn't try to apologize. Probably because Annabeth can understand Estelle's position better than anyone, except potentially Percy. Estelle looks away and ignores burning, bitter tears in the back of her eyes. "I'll find them," she says. Her knuckles curl in. "I have to." 

She brings her left hand up to rub at the hollow feeling in her chest. The future isn't determined, but Estelle knows she has to focus on her goal. As tempting as it is to break down crying and stare at nothing, that option doesn't end in finding her two best friends. No. 

"Annabeth!" 

Annabeth turns towards the voice, sharply. "Rachel!" 

Annabeth's voice is light and delighted, which is probably why she doesn't notice Estelle freezing beside her. 

A redhead runs towards the duo, still wearing a Clarion Academy uniform and a huge grin. She grabs Annabeth in a big, tight hug. 

"I thought you couldn't get here for two days!" Annabeth exclaims, returning a smile. She's looking away from Estelle, which is probably why she doesn't react when Estelle backs away several paces. 

"My dad promised I could come early if I went home for some stupid party of his in June." 

Like Percy and Annabeth, Rachel is _young_ \-- young enough to make Estelle's heart ache. Estelle has always been a younger sibling. She's asked for Rachel's advice so often that she has some of Rachel's more common motivational phrases memorized. Estelle is used to burying her head into Percy's chest and being helped to her feet by Annabeth. She's still shorter than all of them ( _fuck_ Grandpa Blofis's short genes), but being nearly a decade older than all of them in this personal version of hell is dizzying to the point of madness. 

(It's just as well nobody trusts her, because Estelle doesn't know what she would say if anyone asked _her_ to be the older bastion of support). 

And Rachel...Rachel just looks so...

No. _Nope._ Bile rises in Estelle's throat. 

"Ex-excuse me..." Estelle mutters. She doesn't stay long enough to see whether anyone heard her. She just dashes to the woods with the speed of a nymph, hoping she'll be out of sight before she vomits everything she's eaten since lunch. 

* * *

"So I've never had someone react to meeting me with nausea." 

Estelle opens her eyes to see Rachel looking at her, her head cocked to the side and her brows furrowed. 

Estelle groans and looks away, leaning her head back against a trusty tree. "I'm not...you're not..." 

What can she say? What is she supposed to say? Coming to the past doesn't come with an instruction manual. It's been twenty-four hours, and the only thing Estelle can do is internally scream. 

Rachel sits beside Estelle, shooting a disgusted look to the vomit-covered shrubbery. "Some nature spirit's going to _murder_ you." 

Estelle nods. "I don't know what they're waiting for," she admits. Getting yelled at by a nature spirit would just be the icing on the cake of the last twenty-four hours. Of course, that would probably make Estelle feel worse. 

Rachel pauses, preparing for something. "Annabeth told me," she says. "About you coming from the future. That..." Rachel trails off. "That's gotta be rough." 

Yeah. That's one way of putting it. 

"So I'm guessing you know me? In your time?" Rachel prompts. 

_Know you, loved you, identified your corpse in the river. You changed my diapers. You've probably already changed my diapers._

"There aren't many mortals at Camp," Estelle says instead. "I, um...I came with a demigod when I was nine. Everyone wasn't sure what to do with me. I didn't want to just go back and ignore the monsters again. I..." Estelle trails off, thinking. She's never thought about that, before. "Actually, I don't know why you did what you did. At the time, I thought you were just standing up for me. Clear-sighted mortals sticking together, or something like that. Now I have to wonder if you had a vision or something." Estelle clears her throat. "Anyway, you told Chiron and..." Estelle shakes her head. It would give it away, mentioning _him._ "You told Chiron that I belonged here. Every summer after that, I slept in your cave. You were like my senior counselor. You had so much on your shoulders, but you took me in as a little sister." 

"Go me," Rachel says. Estelle has to smile. "You must have been a great kid." 

Estelle shrugs. "Hope so. I tried to be," she says. She stops, looking away from Rachel. "Um. You died. Maybe about six years ago, my time? Some mortal...you'd given a prophecy that he thought meant his family would drown, and he killed you because he thought that would stop it from happening. I was the best person left to identify the body. It's...I..." Estelle swallows. She's hoping she won't vomit again. "I guess I never really dealt with that. I was taking care of my brother's kids, I was helping hold Camp's defenses, I was trying to help Abby research The Mist. There was so much happening that I kind of just kept going." 

When Estelle looks back, she expects Rachel to look pale. Like the Council, when Estelle sprung the fact that _everyone died_ on them. But Rachel's lips are pressed together, her eyes narrow and hard. _Strength._

"It sounds like your time really sucked," Rachel says bluntly. 

Estelle shrugs. "Only the last few years. Everything else..." _Percy, teaching her how to swim. Warm lips on hers. Hugging the hell out of Brys -- they survived._ "The rest of it was pretty good, actually. That's why I'm trying to save it." 

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Estelle closes her eyes and rubs her wrist again, biting her lip. 

"This was such a bad plan," Estelle admits. It's all too easy to imagine that she's back in the cave, sleeping in the bunk above Rachel's, talking about things that Estelle hasn't even admitted to Percy yet. "You'd probably scream at me if you'd still been alive. Tell me that cheating fate tends to bite mortals in the ass. But it felt like fate was _gone_ and..." 

"Hey." 

When Estelle looks over, Rachel's eyes faintly glow green. But...that has to be a trick of the light because there's no green mist or any other indications that the Oracle of Delphi is speaking. 

"I know better than most that the Fates work in mysterious ways," Rachel says. "Sometimes you _do_ have to fight for the future. Sometimes the Fates set you on a crazy path." When Rachel smiles, it doesn't reach her eyes. "Somehow I don't think that you would come back from the future and have everyone mistrust you, just because you didn't like how everything turned out. _That_ would be a bad plan. Not doing something desperate." 

Estelle hugs her knees into her chest, feeling something in her heart sagging. She'd visualized Rachel's face, beet red, her lips turned down in a disappointed frown. She'd expected harsh words and a second loss. She hadn't expected validation. 

(Since Rachel died, Estelle's been looking over her shoulder for someone who knew what they were doing. Chiron's a mentor, always, but mentors can't fight their children's battles, and all the people she used to turn to died in the early stages of The Collapse. Estelle's been looking for so long that chasing a mentor is a half-forgotten whisp of an idea, a poor prediction of what it really was like. So she just...tried to go without one. She tried to be her own mentor, and with her fatal flaw, she twisted the visual into something vile and grating. 

How odd, to realize that she equipped herself for a world that doesn't exist anymore). 

Rachel gives her a look. "Are you going to be ok? No more vomiting?" 

Estelle lets a chuckle escape. "Can't promise that," she admits. The conversation hasn't erased the memory from Estelle's mind, and she tenses until the visual fades. She presses her lips together. "But sitting with you...I think the shock faded. I've just been living with that for so long." 

For a month after Rachel's death, Brys and Abby had gone everywhere with Estelle. She hadn't been left alone, ever. But there'd been another attack a week later, just before Estelle had really been ready to talk about it. And with everything happening, Brys and Abby hadn't had the mental energy to push. Not when they'd lost just as much as Estelle had. Seeing the state of her friends, Estelle chose to try and let her feelings die. Fat lot of good that did her. 

Rachel nods. "I know I'm not the girl who died. The one who took you in," she starts. "But...Annabeth said that your friends are missing and that you're going on a quest to find them. So if you need to talk to someone, just IM me, ok?" 

Estelle blinks away tears. "Rachel..." 

"No," Rachel says, shaking her head. "Look, clearly future me saw something important in you. I don't know if you got this from future me, but I don't abandon my friends. Even the ones I haven't met yet." 

Estelle swallows. Her mouth is, suddenly, bone dry. "I...thank you." 

Rachel smiles. "Any time." She stands and holds out a hand to Estelle to help her up. "Now let's get out of here, before that nymph figures out who puked in her bush." 

Estelle smiles and allows Rachel to help her up. "That sounds like a _great_ idea." 

Estelle walks several paces towards camp. She turns, frowning, when she realizes Rachel isn't behind her. 

Rachel stares off into the distance. The light makes her green eyes appear crystalline, making them appear to glow. What looks like a green afterimage seems to trail after her skin. 

Estelle shivers. "Rachel?" she calls out, warily. 

"Child of fate..." Rachel murmurs. 

Every hair stands up on end. That phrase... "Rachel?" Estelle calls back, louder. Her heart starts to pound.

Rachel shakes her head as if to clear it. When she looks back at Estelle, the light in her eyes doesn't seem as penetrating, and the afterimage fades. But there's more recognition in her eyes there than there was two minutes ago. 

"Sorry," Rachel says, jogging a few steps to catch up. "Zoned out for a second." 

_Zoned out,_ Estelle thinks, feeling like her chest is in a vice. _Sure. And I'm freaking Poseidon._

* * *

The rest of the day is...awkward, to say the least. 

Percy manages to convince the other senior counselors that Estelle probably isn't much of a threat with her knife back, but the trade-off is that she has to be under someone's supervision for the rest of the day. That someone seems to be a trade-off between Percy, Annabeth, and Piper, who seem to be taking shifts in between their own responsibilities. 

(Estelle, having a semblance of intelligence, refrains from mentioning that she could have easily grabbed Riptide and stabbed everyone in their cabins after curfew.) 

Percy doesn't seem to know what to do with her. His eyes, whenever they talk, are always distracted and darting from Estelle's nose to just behind her shoulder. That makes it probably a good thing that Percy spends the least amount of time with her in-between all of the sword classes he's supposed to be teaching. 

Annabeth's...nice. She mostly lets Estelle be without trying to get answers out of her. They try a few camp activities just for something to do -- archery, arts and crafts, naturally the ones that Estelle's the worst at. It works, though, because doing some knife and sword fighting might make Estelle think about a different time, about something she'll never have again. 

Piper takes her after dinner. She doesn't pry, but she _does_ look at Estelle with a punchable face full of sympathy. Estelle tries to shut down her frustration, though -- it wouldn't be so punchable if Estelle didn't already feel like she's on display, like everyone at Camp is staring at her with any available attention they have. 

Piper's the reason that Estelle shows up to campfire in french braids. Probably due to an antsiness that Estelle can feel, too. Estelle lets it happen because it's been years since Piper did her hair. 

Estelle clutches one of the braids in her hand as they walk towards the fire pit. "Thanks, Piper." 

Piper waves it off. "No problem. I just thought it might be nice to have it out of your eyes..." 

_HOLY....!_

Estelle stumbles back, blinking rapidly. 

"Lane?" 

"I'm fine." 

Estelle's not fine. Or at least, _fine_ isn't the way she would describe herself. It's so... _bright._ Pinks and greens and oranges and a single sea-blue, all radiating out from the campfire in dizzying and painful clarity...

It would remind her of time-blindness, but time-blindness feels like going outside from a dark room at noon. This is powerful. This yearns to be seen, exploding beyond the campfire rings to Estelle's eyeballs. Like a road flare. Sharp pain digs into her eyes. 

She'd...forgotten. Her last campfire had been half this number, if still dizzyingly bright. The memory of her first campfire lost color and sharpness at the edges; her control feels rusty and out of reach. 

Grover. What did Grover tell her? _Take a deep breath. Focus on what you need to know. Let everything else drift to the background._

Ok. Focus on what she needs to know. It's campfire. Estelle already knew that all of the demigods and magical creatures in the camp would be here. There's no need to try and take in that information. So she needs to try to focus on something else. 

She opens her eyes and stares at the campfire. She lists of qualities in her head. _Pink_ _. Warm. Flickering. Wood on the bottom._

"Lane?" 

Right. Piper's talking to her. "I'm ok," she says again, a little more certain. If she doesn't look at the demigods, if she focuses on the campfire, the glare is more peripheral. It's easier to manage. She rubs her eyes. "It's just... _bright._ " 

Estelle can't look at Piper to see what Piper's expression is, but it's probably incredulous. "Really. I'll make it through campfire. Just..." she trails off. "I don't know how to describe it. I'm sorry." 

She's not...precisely lying. She hadn't been able to describe it to Percy, either. Or Mom. But as an adult with years of experience under her belt, she could probably manage something. It's just going to put more attention on her than she wants. 

Estelle flashes Piper a smile but avoids looking at her directly. With the way tonight is going so far, looking directly at one of The Seven would probably knock her over. 

"If you're sure," Piper says, skeptical. "Come on." 

It turns out to be less fine when Piper has to grab Estelle's arm and lead her to where Rachel sits. Everything's so bright that Estelle can barely see where the benches are. 

"Ok, huh?" Piper asks, deadpan. 

"I told you, it's just bright," Estelle says, wincing. 

"The campfire?" 

Estelle sighs. "Everyone," she mutters. She hopes it's under Piper's level of hearing, but she can't sneak a look to check. 

Piper leads her over to where Rachel sits. It's about the only dim spot in the entire Hades-damned campfire ring, so Estelle can see when Rachel realizes that Piper's leading the blind. "What's going on?" 

Piper snorts. "She was running into the benches. I could have let her bruise her shin, but I figured that would make us bad hosts." 

"I _told_ you," Estelle says, her tone turning grating. "It's just _bright_." 

Rachel's brows unfurrow. Her mouth opens in understanding. 

Belatedly, Estelle recalls Rachel kneeling in front of her, asking her to describe what she saw. She sees Rachel giving Percy a look, reminding him in a too-smooth voice of the Labyrinth. 

Relief and annoyance war within her. 

"She's ok, Piper. I know what this is." When Piper doesn't leave, Rachel gestures with her head towards Piper's cabin. "Drew's been saying some pretty weird crap..." 

Piper groans. " _Di immortales."_

As she stomps off to go yell at her sister, Estelle pitches her head forward into her hands. A pulsing headache pounds behind her eyes.

"This looks a lot more intense than what I saw in the Labyrinth," Rachel says. 

A beat passes. "You know," Estelle says, rubbing her eyes again. "I think it is, but we've never actually compared notes." 

"How-" 

"Welcome to Campfire, everyone!" 

Whatever Rachel's question was meant to be, it's lost in the sing-along. 

To Estelle's amazement, the words come to her without half-trying. Apollo cabin, clearly without realizing, picked a few of her favorites: "Poseidon's Rage", "We're Going on a Quest", "Love is Aphrodite's Rose". If Estelle closes her eyes, or only looks at the blazing campfire, she can let the nostalgia wash over her. For a second, she's fifteen again. Her and Brys are seated next to Rachel, arms around each other, screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs. She can see Abby's eyes, blue like lightning, making contact with hers from where her own cabin sits. She can see Percy and Annabeth kissing each other during a rendition of "I Am My Own Great, Great Grandpa", laughing. 

Estelle swallows tears down as everyone sings the last lyric. They'll be there again. She's going to find her friends so they can see a real campfire again. She rubs at her wrist, sealing her promise. 

"Lovely, campers!" Chiron makes his way to the front of the campfire, facing the benches. "What a fantastic way to end another day. I'd like to extend a warm welcome to Lane, our visitor from the future." 

The only good thing about aura-sight in a crowd is that in this kind of din, Estelle has to focus to see anyone's expressions. Which means she can't see everyone staring at her if she doesn't want to. 

"Lane, would you like to explain why you're here?" 

_Fuck_ Chiron. Just...

Estelle sighs, shakes out her arms, and stands. She looks at the ground. 

"You all can call me Lane," she says, forcing herself to project. "I'm a clear-sighted mortal from 2038. My friends and I came here because in 2030, the Mist will stop protecting monsters and demigods." 

There's assorted gasps and sputtering, and some curses from the older campers. Estelle keeps her eyes down. 

"There will be a big war," she says. "Mortals will think that demigods are just as evil as the monsters they fight. They become afraid afraid. Between them and the increase in monster attacks, Camp falls in 2036. In my time, before we left, hardly anyone was still alive." 

There's a beat of silence. 

Then everyone starts _shouting._

"Quiet!" Chiron bellows. 

Silence again. 

"How do we stop it?" Someone yells. It's not a camper Estelle recognizes. "You can't just tell us camp will _fall_ and..." 

"Dora!" 

Estelle looks towards the voice and tries to glare, but the blinking probably wrecks her facade. "That's why we decided to come back," she says, fiercely. "Because our world was dying, and the only way we could fix it was to prevent it from ever happening in the first place. Otherwise..." she shook her head. "Time travel is dangerous. We were able to do it because Brys, my best friend, has the ability to rewind time. But my friends and I were separated in the time stream. I think they landed in the same time, but not the same place. I need a quest to go find my friends and to hopefully fix what happened in the process. I'm _not_ letting Camp fall. Not again." 

"And that means a quest," Rachel says, standing. "Fate has issued a quest for Lane. Which means that she will need a prophecy." 

She falls. 

Estelle takes several steps to the side so Rachel's attendants can reach Rachel. 

A green mist swirls around Rachel, leaping and spilling around her legs like water, joining with the smoke pouring out of her mouth. Her eyes glow so green that they pierce through the darkness.

In Estelle's eyes, a dark green glow surrounds Rachel, joining with the smoke and making her look ethereal. 

_This will never not be creepy,_ Estelle thinks to herself, her hand twitching towards her pocket. 

The voice of the Oracle of Delphi rings with deep power; it's layered with cracks and carefully articulated. Slowly, Rachel begins to speak. 

_"Child of Fate, the future is lost_

_The Son of the Sea is part of the cost_

_You will find what you seek at a fate worse than death_

_You will fix what was taken if you find your breath."_

Then, something weird happens. 

Rachel turns and stares directly at Percy and Annabeth. 

Estelle's heart leaps into her throat. Based on Percy's skin turning vaguely green and the way Annabeth's knuckles turn white on his arm, she's not alone.

_"Son of the Sea, you must learn to forgive,_

_or you'll never find peace with the fate that you live_

_you'll be saved if a secret should come to light_

_and you'll make a choice to win the fight_

_Daughter of Wisdom, beware the past._

_You must learn control or be lost in its path._

_You will face a decision between bravery and fear_

_the consequences of which could be severe._

_Quest of the mist: future, present, and past,_

_The choices you make will determine what lasts._

_Start at the place where reality bends_

_and follow the trail from there to the end."_

Rachel closes her mouth, the smoke disappearing. Her eyelids slide closed. Then she falls into her attendant's waiting arms. 

Percy's shining a bright blue, brighter than nearly anything that Estelle's ever seen. He looks murderous, gripping something in his pocket like a lifeline. 

_Oh._ Estelle thinks, her mouth bone dry. _Oh **Styx.**_


End file.
